


Of Goats and Men

by gotfanfiction



Series: Tumblr Collective [16]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Female Eggsy, Fluff, Hangover, Original Goat Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotfanfiction/pseuds/gotfanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd had a bad morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Goats and Men

**Author's Note:**

> @fangirl-maketh-fics this one’s for u babe I went with fem!eggsy bc reasons. Also I’m not writing out the accent. I will never write out the accent. I’m sorry.

***

Harry woke very suddenly, and very suddenly wished he hadn’t.

The light coming in from the open window cheerfully speared it’s way to the back of his skull, adding a brighter note to the dull thuds of pain.

He staggered his way up and promptly fell over, having tripped on the rim of the bathtub he’d apparently been sleeping in. He spent a few shocked moments appreciating the relative coolness of the bathroom tile. At least he hadn’t broken his nose.

The main problem, however, was that Harry didn’t remember how he’d gotten into the tub, or the bathroom, or even into his rarely used city flat. In fact, the last thing he remembered was ordering a pint to celebrate the completion of his latest assignment.

***

Harry, who was giving serious thought to just simply staying face planted on the floor and maybe taking a nap, groaned the groan of the truly regretful and, using the sink as a handhold, hauled himself into standing once more. Taking a few bracing breaths, he shuffled his way the door, fully prepared to find his flat in shambles.

He was not, unfortunately, prepared for what he actually found.

***

There was a girl. On his sofa. The alarming thing however, was the goat she was cuddling while she fed small bits of bread to the animal. She was cooing at it as if it were a small child, and Harry supposed he might have found the image sweet, if it wasn’t happening in his goddamned apartment.

The _most_ alarming thing was that the pair of them were bundled up in what appeared to be matching ponchos.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The girl glanced up at him with a smile. “I’m feeding Steve. I don’t really know what goats are supposed to eat, but I thought bread wouldn’t hurt him none.”

“I- Steve?” Harry took a step forward, confused -and possibly turned on a bit but that didn’t really bear thinking about- “Who is Steve. Who are you? How did you even get that goat into my flat? What the fuck is going on?”

The girl, still nameless and still dressed in only a fucking _poncho_ for fucks sake, winced and scowled at him. Harry might have gotten slightly shrill. In his defense, he’d had a bad morning.

“Bruv, you must’ve been pissed beyond belief. I’m Eggsy, remember? We met up at the Black Prince, you bought me ‘n my mates a couple rounds.” She snuggled the goat, who didn’t look a thing like a ‘Steve’ to be honest, closer to her chest as if she were afraid Harry would leap across the room and toss him out the window. “We hit it off, decided to go to that club? I’m not sure where exactly we picked Steve up, but it was after that tequila for sure.”

Harry slumped against the wall, desperately trying to process. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d done while shit faced -as a quaint village in Germany could attest to- and the tequila explained the spotty memory but still. What the fuck.

“Well, since you and, ah, Steve, seem to have made yourselves at home, why don’t we see about ordering breakfast for ourselves?” Harry cleared his throat. She really was a lovely woman, all legs and wild hair. “After I find something to take for this headache.”

The smile returned, bigger than before, with a wink and a little nose twitch that put a flutter in Harry’s chest. Eggsy lifted one of Steve’s -god there was a _goat_ named _Steve_ in a _poncho_ in his  _flat_ what was his life- admittedly small hooves and waved it at him. “Sounds good, guv.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> I fucking loved writing this. U can’t judge me.


End file.
